Every Time A Bell Rings
by Thobbit
Summary: The third-to-last scene of "Big Bang 2", Supernatural-style. You don't need to have watched Doctor Who to get it, but it's much better if you have.


_A/N: A friend of mine did a challenge on LiveJournal to take the words of one show and make it work for the BBC series Sherlock. She used Doctor Who. I liked the idea, except with SPN instead of Sherlock, and here we are. Enjoy! (So, see, it's technically not a "crossover", but it's so much better if you also watch Doctor Who that I felt it belonged here.)_

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**Every Time A Bell Rings**

It was Christmas dinner at Bobby's house, for the first time in what seemed like forever. Loads of people were there, mostly friends of Bobby's from town and his younger days when dinosaurs roamed the earth. Not that Dean said that out loud. He knew he should be happy, or at least satisfied - hell, he'd planned half of this, and cooked the rest - but something stopped him.

A man strode past the window outside, and Dean stood up to look at him. He was slightly chubby, in what was probably a hideously expensive suit. He held a leash like he was walking a dog, but there was no dog in sight.

"Dean," said Sam, looking up at his brother curiously. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Dean replied gruffly, sitting down again. He glanced left and right, at Sammy and Bobby and everyone else, but everything looked normal.

"Right." Sam glanced around surreptitiously, then back at Dean. "Um, you're crying."

Dean touched his cheek. The finger came away wet. "Yeah. Why am I doing that?"

"Because you're happy, probably," Sam suggested. "Happy to be settled down? Happy happy happy?" He punched Dean playfully on the shoulder.

"No," Dean looked around confusedly, ignoring his little brother's antics. "No, I'm sad. I'm really really sad."

Sam looked at his plate. "Well, great." Just when he'd been starting to feel at home. Why couldn't Dean ever be satisfied? Wasn't it supposed to be the other way around, older brother always looking out for the younger?

"Why am I sad?" Dean wondered aloud. Everyone else at the table was joking and laughing, oblivious to their little corner of melancholy. A glint of metal caught his eye. "What's that?"

"Oh, someone left it for you," said Sam, grateful for the change of subject. "A man."

Dean grabbed the small package from his plate, ripping off the wrapping paper like an excited toddler. "What is it?"

"I don't know. It's wrapped, doofus," Sam replied easily.

"It's a bell," Dean answered his own question. "Why a bell?"

"Well you know the old saying," said Sammy, ever the geek. Dean glanced at him confusedly. "From that Christmas movie?"

Dean looked down at the small silver bell. Tears welled up inexplicably in his eyes.

"Dean," Sam said concernedly. "Hey."

On the other side of Dean, Bobby stood up from his place at the head of the table. He smacked a fork against his whiskey glass. "Hey, shut up you lot," he called, "I have an announcement to make here."

Dean barely heard him. He was staring around the room, searching for he-wasn't-sure-what. Some neighbor's loose tie caught his eye, and another guy's trench coat. Who wore a trench coat indoors, even in a South Dakota winter?

A single tear dripped down his nose. It fell on the bell, glistening on the shining metal.

"You all know I'm gettin' kinda old," Bobby was going on in the background. "And Dean's been a big help around here with the cars and all the last couple'a years. So I'd like to tell you all right now that I'm gonna––"

"Shut up, Bobby." Dean stood abruptly. Several voices cried out variations of "Dean!" and "What the hell?"

"Sorry Bobby, but shut up, please." Dean went on. He clenched the bell tight in one hand. "There's someone missing, someone important. Someone seriously important." The other hand went to his head. He couldn't remember something. He was trying so hard it hurt.

"What's wrong?" asked Sam, still sitting.

"Sorry. Sorry, everyone." Dean cleared his throat. Screw apologies. "A couple years ago, I had some...issues. I just drove around all the time, couldn't settle down. I couldn't." He trailed off for a moment. "I had to keep fighting. And I did, 'cuz I had a friend. An angel on my shoulder. His name was Castiel."

"Oh, not this again." Bobby sat, pulling down his trucker cap like he couldn't bear to watch. But Dean ignored him.

"We fought monsters," said Dean. "Monsters and demons and everything scarier than you can possibly imagine." He paused. "Sammy helped," he conceded.

Sam scrunched down in his chair, trying to look as small and uninvolved as a 6'4" moose could be.

"But they weren't imaginary," Dean continued. "They were all real."

People were beginning to shift awkwardly in their seat, like they weren't sure whether to call the cops or the nuthouse wardens.

"I remember you. I remember! I brought the others back; I can bring you home too!" He was clutching the bell so tightly it bit into his skin. Unnoticed, a drop of blood crept along the rim. Where it passed, tiny marks were revealed, ancient runes from an unknown language. "Nerdy angel, I remember you, and you are _late for Christmas_!"

There was silence, a horrible empty silence in which nothing seemed to happen. Then the glasses started shivering, and rain began hammering the roof. It'd been a sunny day.

"I found you. I found you in words like you knew I would. That's why you always said it like that." He opened his hand and looked down at the bell. The sigils that showed were glowing through the red. He smeared the blood over all of it, until every spot was marked with bright white lines of light. "Nice, very nice."

A wind was blowing through the room now, though all the doors and windows were shut.

"Dean, what is it?" asked Sam.

Dean grinned. "An angel of the Lord, Sammy!" He rang the bell, then added more softly, "Getting his wings back."

There was a fwoosh of sound like a giant bird landing, and a dark-haired man in a messy suit and trench coat appeared in the middle of the room.

Sam stared, dumbfounded. "It's Cas. How did we forget Cas?"

Dean ignored him once more and jumped unceremoniously over the table, dismissive of the overturned plates.

"Well, Cas?" he said eagerly, "Did I surprise you this time?"

"Not particularly. Your powers of stubbornness are well-known, and I was confident you'd figure out the final step in the summoning once you had the bell." His face softened into a slight smile. "None the less, I thank you Dean."

He looked around at the assembled guests. "Hello, everyone. My name is Castiel." He leaned past Dean and shook Bobby's hand. "Good to see you again."

Bobby nodded his head in acknowledgement. "You too." He glanced around at Dean (beaming) Sam (wondering) and everyone else (shell-shocked) and sighed resignedly. Bunch of idjits. "I guess you'll have to stay for dinner, then."


End file.
